Here There Be Dragons
by Snoe
Summary: Wash awakes a captive after she should have by all rights been dead. Taylor refuses to fall apart. All the answers lie in the Badlands and Lucas is determined to unravel the mystery first, even if he has to use his father's stubborn lieutenant to do it.
1. Chapter 1

**Here There Be Dragons**

****Rating: T, for violence and language

Summary: It was the second time in her life Wash awoke after she should have by all rights been dead. It was the second time in his life Commander Taylor lost a woman he loved. The answers to all questions lie in the Badlands and Lucas Taylor is determined to unravel the mystery first, even if he needs his father's stubborn lieutenant to do it. It is the second time in his life Lucas needs one woman just as desperately as his father does.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, 'cause if I did this show would have a lot more dino deaths.

Spoilers: Up to and including the season one finale

AN: I know this is probably the hundredth fix-it fic, but it's not like they gave us much choice. I was mad they killed Wash so I'm trying to rectify it. At the same time I'm planning to explore the new mystery, so this is going to be a long ride. Please let me know if you like it and if I should continue with this. it helps to know someone's reading ;)

**Chapter 1**

Consciousness didn't happen suddenly; it trickled in slowly like a leaking faucet until the sink ran over, until she realized she was alive. She didn't immediately realize that this fact alone was a near miracle; at first she didn't realize much of anything beyond the humming in her head, which was increasing in volume. There was no pain and no memory and before either returned to her she wondered if maybe she wasn't alive at all. Maybe this was heaven. Or hell. Or wherever those who had dedicated their life to war and fighting went when they died.

The memory was the first to return, a version muddled in odd colors and muffled in sound without a coherent timeline. Telling the Shannons to save themselves. The Phoenix Group shelling the colony. Lucas pointing his gun at her face. Lucas pulling the trigger. Taylor ordering her to stay behind. Taylor trying his damndest to keep her safe and ultimately failing so miserably. The thought of the Commander tore at her for reasons she could not explain. She had to pull herself together and find him, to join the fight again.

Rough fingers on her head suddenly focused her attention on the pain lingering at the periphery of her consciousness. Hot, white fire lanced through her skull, shooting across her jaw and exploding in vibrant colors behind her eyes. Her stomach rolled. She was almost glad for the complete inability to move or speak or she might have whimpered and no matter her current condition one thing was sure: Lieutenant Alicia Washington did not whimper.

"Lieutenant." The voice exploded in her head, making her spin. It was stern, but that was a given in the military and Wash could not discern whether it was friend or foe.

A hand grasped her jaw to turn her head, but the mere action made her want to scream. Something warm ran across her cheek. Wash tried to open her eyes, surprising herself when images came into focus. Her vision was hazy, but enough for her to realize she was in the back of a covered truck, facing out into the jungle. A face appeared above her and dread settled in the lieutenant when she recognized the red beret of one of the Phoenix soldiers.

Even in her addled state she could tell they were not in Terra Nova and if she was still surrounded by Phoenix soldiers she was their prisoner. But if they were not in Terra Nova then maybe Taylor and the others had taken back the colony and there was still hope.

"Wash," said the soldier above her, using the nickname only her soldiers and friends did.

She blinked, waiting for the face to come into focus. It was a female soldier with cold, green eyes, dark hair and a distinct scar curved around the right cheek. There was something distinctly familiar about the soldier that Wash couldn't place just yet. She tried to move her mouth to speak, sending only more pain shooting along her jaw. Her tongue felt swollen and numb and she tasted a horrible mix of bile and blood. She looked to the soldier at her side, hating how helpless she felt injured and on her back. Wash would hate it if Taylor saw her like this and he was probably the one person she trusted more than anyone. In this timeline and the other.

"You are one stubborn bitch, Lieutenant," said the soldier, sounding fairly neutral for someone who should consider her an enemy combatant. The soldier was rummaging through a bag at her side, pulling out a few medical items. Her fingers were anything but gentle as she sprayed disinfectant on Wash's forehead and cheek to clean the wounds. Wash studied the soldier's face to try and ignore the pain her ministrations were causing. When the light from outside hit the soldier's face in a particular way Wash remembered.

"Private Black," said Wash despite the pain, her voice hoarse and raspy.

The soldier smirked. "It's Sergeant now." She turned an arm to show off the stripes on her sleeve. "Who would've guessed, right?"

Wash tried to swallow against the dryness in her mouth, to no avail. It took all her strength just to formulate a few words. "You're a mercenary now."

Sgt. Black shrugged. "It pays the bills. Not all of us were lucky enough to get a free ticket to a dino jungle campout."

Wash wasn't really interested in what the Sgt. had to say. She was trying to formulate an escape plan, though it seemed her current condition would make that quite difficult. However, Wash was determined not to let a little bullet to the face stop her. She attempted to sit up with her hands still tied behind her back, but moved no more than three inches before her own pain and Sgt. Black's hand stopped her.

"You do realize you just got shot in the face, right? You don't really want to be doing that." There was a hint of annoyance in Sgt. Black's voice, reminding Wash of what Taylor would sound like in this situation. Thinking of her Commander sent a whole different kind of pain through her body. What if he thought she was dead?

Voices could be heard and someone walked closer, stopping just outside the truck, though Wash could not muster the energy to look. The voice, however, sent shivers down her spine and she hated herself for it. She closed her eyes, not wanting to let the bastard know she was awake.

"What the hell are you doing, Private?" Lucas Taylor managed to sound angry and out of his mind all at the same time. He climbed into the truck and stared down the soldier sitting on the low bench next to Washington.

Sgt. Black made a face. She could take all the fighting, dinosaurs, explosions and ambushes, but this guy was seriously crazy and for some reason someone was letting him be in charge. It had disaster written all over it. "It's Sergeant, actually. And I was tending to the prisoner."

"Why?" Lucas looked at the still woman at his feet. This was the closest he could get to killing his father – killing his second in command, his oldest friend, his companion. If his father refused to die, then Lucas would simply destroy him.

"You did shoot her in the face. You don't think that warrants some sort of medical attention?" asked Sgt. Black, trying to hide her incredulity to keep her job, but wishing someone would get rid of this crazy bastard.

Lucas kicked the toe of his boot against Washington's leg, though not nearly as hard as he would have liked. He wanted to beat her until she begged him to spare her life. He could still see her defiant look as she stared him down right before he pulled the trigger. She hadn't even looked scared and he hated her for it. "She's my father's lapdog. She deserves nothing. Leave her to rot."

Lucas didn't wait around to see if the soldier followed his orders, storming out of the truck as if carried away by his anger. The sergeant watched him go and scoffed, returning to her previous task. Wash hissed as the needle pierced her skin, though more from surprise than any real pain.

Sgt. Black grinned. "Man, now I know why you never let me stitch anyone up. I'm horrible at it."

Wash wasn't entirely sure if the woman was finally being honest about her ineptitude as a medic or merely being flippant about whatever atrocity she was committing on Wash's face. Either way, she decided it wasn't worth caring about. She already had plenty of ugly scars; this one would merely be in a more visible location. Although the brief flicker of worry about what Taylor might think annoyed her to no end. She was not some weak-willed, vain woman.

"Why are you helping me?" Wash decided to distract herself instead, though judging by the soldier's annoyed hiss talking while someone was stitching your face was likely a bad idea.

Sgt. Black ripped the thread with her teeth and grabbed some gauze and tape to cover the wound. "You saved my life once. It's only fair. And anyways, I may be a mercenary, but I am still a soldier and I don't believe in executing an unarmed enemy."

She sat back, as if to admire her handiwork. "It's not pretty, but it'll do. I'm pretty sure your jaw and cheekbone are broken, but you'll just have to deal and hope your face doesn't fall apart. I'd suggest you stay put and don't move; you'll only make it worse."

The sergeant grabbed her supplies and, with one last look at Lt. Washington, jumped off the truck bed. Wash, unguarded for the first time since regaining consciousness, saw her chance for escape. She made it a few inches farther this time, but the excruciating pain forced her back down, pulling her back under into unconsciousness.

xxxxxx

Commander Taylor surveyed what was left of his colony, his eyes sweeping across the ruins and wreckage of what he had helped built. To anyone watching he would appear to be keeping watch, stoic and confident, exuding an intrinsic power that was hard to ignore. Yet Taylor felt like none of those things now. His thoughts were in disarray and if Mira herself walked into Terra Nova right now he probably wouldn't have noticed. He was stoic, but only because he could find no words to say, nothing to voice the anger and misery inside of him. And even though they had taken back the colony, Taylor could not have felt any more powerless and incompetent. It all came down to one single event, something so insignificant in the scheme of this war, yet instrumental in causing his undoing. It all came down to five words, which played on loop in his head ever since that night. He had let Wash die.

Taylor turned as he heard footsteps leading up to the command center. Jim Shannon approached with a look one normally used to calm erratic wildlife. Taylor crossed his arms, bracing for more bad news. At this point he did not even care. Nothing could be worse than what had already happened. And in a way that thought buoyed him, loosening the iron clamp around his heart just the slightest. This was the worst he would ever feel. Even if it never got better, and he doubted it would, it could not get worse and thus Taylor knew he could get through it. He took a deep breath.

"Shannon, anything new?"

Jim shifted somewhat uneasily. He knew the Commander was tough and was pretending to be even tougher, but he could see the cracks in the façade. He dreaded the day it would break entirely. "No, sir. We're ready for you, whenever you want to start."

Taylor nodded silently, ignoring the worried look Shannon was throwing him. He wasn't some fragile doll that would break at any moment, yet it seemed as if everyone was suddenly treating him as such. He would go and lead the funeral procession as he had done many times before. He would stand there and extol the bravery and virtues of his lieutenant to the assembled colonists. He would salute when they played Taps. He would shovel dirt on an empty grave. And most importantly, he would not break.

Commander Taylor turned without a word and made his way down the command center steps. No matter how much he wanted to say, Jim Shannon remained quiet as he followed the commander.

xxxxxx

The next time she awoke she was being manhandled by two soldiers, who were dragging her across the jungle by her arms. Wash tried to lift her head to perhaps get a sense of where the Phoenix Group was hiding out, but found she did not have the strength to move at all. She was as limp as a ragdoll, her feet dragging across the ground. Wash noticed they had taken her boots, to deter her from escaping, but she knew it wouldn't stop her.

The soldiers stopped and dropped her onto her knees. A pair of boots came into her view and she knew immediately who it was. The situation was eerily reminiscent of the one just the night before. Had it been the night before? Wash realized she had no idea how much time had passed since Lucas had shot her. It could have been weeks for all she knew. Wash did not like feeling this disoriented.

"**This** is how we'll get in," said Lucas, his tone suggesting he was trying to convince someone else of whatever harebrained idea he had had now.

At first Wash thought he was talking about Terra Nova and wondered for the briefest of moments if Taylor would make some kind of bargain to get her back, but quickly squashed that thought. He wasn't stupid. He would not give up the colony to save her and he shouldn't. Wash chalked up her brief moment of sentimentality to her head injury.

"I don't understand." The second voice was also a man's, though his tone was more controlled than Lucas's.

Wash tried to move her head again and this time succeeded in looking up. It was bright and there was jungle all around and suddenly there was Lucas's face right in front of her. He was grinning and the sight made her uneasy, no matter how much she tried to stay calm.

"Look who's awake. How's the head, Lieutenant?" His eyes, Taylor's eyes, were staring her down, trying to unsettle her. Wash remained silent. Lucas made a face and pulled back. "I really wanted to kill you, Lieutenant, but when you refused to die, I realized you could be of use to us still."

He turned back to the man at his side. Wash studied the man as he came closer, but didn't know what to make of him. He clearly was no soldier, but also did not look the businessman type. He was wearing an outfit that reminded her of pictures she'd seen of 19th century explorers, replete with a wide-brimmed hat. The man looked down at her, adjusting his glasses.

"If you think the Commander is going to make any kind of deal with you in exchange for my life, you're sadly mistaken," said Wash as defiantly as she could with her voice hardly working and her head swimming.

Lucas laughed. "Don't I know it? He refused to save my mother; he sure as hell won't be saving you. He doesn't care about you, you know? You're nothing to him. I bet he's over there in his stupid colony, with a new lieutenant and doesn't even remember your name."

Lucas was trying to hurt her, but Wash knew better and anyway, in his rambling Lucas had inadvertently given her the first bit of positive news she'd had in a while: Taylor was back in charge of Terra Nova. She was alive and they were back in charge of the colony; now all she had to do was to escape and find her way back. Wash had no doubt in her mind she would succeed, somehow.

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" asked the other man, exasperation in his voice as if he'd been dealing with Lucas Taylor for far too long. "How is **she** going to help us unlock the portal?"

Lucas pulled back. "Other than my father, she has been here longer than anyone. If it's going to work with someone, it'll be with her. I know what I'm doing, Doc."

He said the last part with the sort of intonation someone used when their competence was constantly under attack. The man looked somewhat skeptically from Lucas to Wash and squatted down to look her in the eyes. "My name is Dr. Javier Jones. I'm an archaeologist from Boise. My colleagues call me "Idaho" Jones."

He laughed as if he'd made a joke, but if he had Wash didn't get it, nor did she care to. She was only interested in gathering as much intelligence as possible before making her escape and returning to Terra Nova. Dr. Jones studied her closely. "Have you ever been to the Badlands?"

Wash refused to speak. She was in no way going to give them anything that would aid them in their mission, whatever it was. Dr. Jones only seemed inconvenienced by her silence, but Lucas was already frustrated and kicked her in the side. "Speak, Lieutenant, or you'll wish you **had** died."

Compared to how her head felt, or beatings she'd taken in the past, the kick was hardly painful, though it set her slightly off balance. Wash righted herself and looked up at Lucas defiantly. "Lt. Alicia Washington, 3780856."

Dr. Jones looked at Lucas, confusion written on his face. "What's she doing?"

Lucas grimaced, hating that his father's legacy could still haunt him when his father wasn't even around. "It's a military thing. If you're captured by the enemy, you only give name, rank and serial number. Too bad this isn't the military."

He leaned down again, his eyes wild and the muscles around his forehead twitching. "I'm not going to tell you again, Lieutenant. Answer the doctor's questions."

Wash knew it was dumb to antagonize him when he was clearly on the verge of losing control. When he had already tried to execute her once. But she was not built for surrender. She'd had to surrender the colony, but Wash vowed to never again raise the white flag. She even managed a smirk as she spoke. "Lt. Alicia Washington, 3780856."

She saw the butt of Lucas's gun coming at her face, but did not flinch as it made contact. Wash welcomed back the darkness, her new faithful companion.

****_to be continued  
><em>


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all your great responses to the last chapter, I'm glad there are some of you reading and enjoying! I'm trying to make this a somewhat elaborate story, but of course I realized that means Wash and Taylor won't be reunited for a while, so Ill have to think of something creative! For now though, some more badass Wash for your reading pleasure

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Jim Shannon stood silently, his eyes fixated on the large stone at his feet. He hadn't moved in a while and his feet were slowly becoming numb, though he did not mind. He felt weary, an odd sense of exhaustion that was only partially due to the physical toll of the last few days. He breathed deeply, the letters on the stone blurring as he read them over for the thousandth time.

It was a nice stone, really, black and smooth and likely very hard to find. It was evidence of the respect and affection the colonists as a whole had held for Lt. Washington. They had not found her body, although Taylor had called off the search after just a short while. He had never explained why, but Jim had a feeling the Commander suspected either a likely location or condition of his lieutenant's body that he thought too gruesome to share. So they had merely put up a marker in Memorial Field, prominently enough that one could not walk into the graveyard without seeing it. Boylan had offered the black stone, free of charge, even though he had been pretending Washington's death didn't affect him.

A gust of wind rushed across the field, ruffling the blades of grass surrounding the memorial stone. Jim heaved a sigh and leaned down to touch his fingers to the stone. His eyes swept across the letters one more time, burning her name into his memory.

"Thank you, Wash."

As he stood his radio crackled, signaling he was needed. He turned to walk back to the colony, activating his radio. "Go for Shannon."

The radio crackled again before his wife's voice came across clear. "Jim, there's something I think you need to see."

She sounded worried. Jim picked up his pace.

xxxxxx

Lucas Taylor was afraid. He would never admit it to anyone, but here, in the dark and in his head, the truth was harder to evade. He was afraid of his father, even if he pretended that he was not. After their last encounter Lucas knew the times the Commander would refuse to kill him because he was his son were over. In all honesty, he had not expected to survive that last encounter either, had bet it all on a last emotional plea. Lucas had seen his father's eyes and knew how much he had hurt him. Lucas didn't have to wonder whether the Commander had survived; his father simply refused to die.

Much like his lapdog, Lucas thought as he was bent over the unconscious woman. In his fear he had realized, much too late really, they had never checked the Lieutenant's body for a tracker. It was stupid of him not to think of it sooner and Lucas had, half-panicked, jumped out of bed to ensure his father was not tracking them right now. He should have known something was wrong when Washington had practically volunteered to die.

"Sir, what are you looking for? Perhaps I could help you."

Lucas threw a disparaging glance at the soldier assigned to guard the prisoner. He recognized her from before, when she'd insisted on providing medical aid to his enemy. She had sounded anything but subordinate then and he could easily tell she did not want him around.

"Perhaps you need to shut up and do your job," said Lucas bitingly, his hands roaming across the Lieutenant's body to check for a tracker imbedded in skin or clothing.

"If you are looking for a tracker, I can save you some time," said Sgt. Black, watching as Lucas searched the Lieutenant by lamplight.

He glared at her, but nevertheless motioned for her to go ahead. The fear of his father was more pressing than his wish to shoot the soldier. She knelt across from him next to Wash. "I threw away her dogtags when we left the colony. Commander Taylor doesn't believe in tracking implants in his soldiers, but if she does have one it would either be in her neck or somewhere near the collar bone."

Lucas thrust the lamp into her hands to get better light. He searched the two areas the sergeant had mentioned meticulously, but found nothing. Someone entered the tent, sounding harried.

"Lucas, we need you."

Lucas scoffed, wondering again why he was the only competent one in this operation. He stood anyway and followed the man out of the tent, temporarily forgetting all about his fear of his father and paranoia about his prisoner.

"You lied to him."

Sgt. Black looked down at the suddenly very conscious lieutenant, her face betraying no emotion. "I didn't lie. Taylor never believed in implants. He said any commander who lost his soldiers was no commander at all. What do you think he'd say about you now?"

Wash tried to shift as much as was possible with her hands still tied behind her back and her head still feeling like it had been used for target practice. She stared at the soldier she'd once fought with side-by-side, but said nothing. Wash had long since figured out which people needed to fill silences and could be relied upon to spill almost anything given some time. Sgt. Black didn't disappoint.

"Well, unlike **him**, and most of this sorry operation, I don't take a prisoner into my camp without checking they're not bugged. Your chip isn't active; there's no need to tell him about it."

"I have a feeling Lucas is not going to agree with that," said Wash, trying to keep the sergeant distracted while she freed her hands. She figured it must have been a few days since she had been shot, as her hands were incredibly numb even though she could tell her wrists were slick with blood.

Sgt. Black shrugged unperturbed, as if Lucas had not demonstrated his willingness to execute someone. "You're my fall-back plan. If these people really do have a way for us to get back home, I don't care what happens to you. But if something goes wrong, you'll be my ticket into Terra Nova."

Wash actually laughed, though she regretted it almost immediately when more pain shot through her jaw. "What makes you think Taylor would let you in, after you've taken me prisoner?"

"I would also have helped you escape. If it becomes necessary I will take you out of here, activate that little tracker of yours and wait until the cavalry arrives."

One of her hands slipped through the rope and Wash almost shouted in triumph. She flexed her fingers carefully to return the feeling to them, struggling to remove the rest of the rope from her other wrist. "Why don't you just do that now? He would never believe you waited so long to spring me."

The sergeant frowned and looked away. "I don't want to stay here. If I have no other choice, then Terra Nova will be the safest bet, but until then, I'm hoping for a way home. And when you tell Taylor how I helped you, he'll have no choice but to take me in."

Wash saw her chance as soon as the sergeant looked away. She just had to overcome this one soldier and she could make a break for it. Wash had taken on more enemies than this and won easy. With her newly freed hand she reached for the pistol in Black's leg holster and even though her hand was slick and numb, she managed to pull it out. Wash's injuries seriously slowed her reflexes and the sergeant was already moving as she raised the pistol to aim. The gun recoiled in her hand as she fired. A blow struck her jaw and the pain that erupted was enough to momentarily paralyze her. Her vision turned black, but unlike before there was no mercy in unconsciousness. Wash felt the pistol being taken from her hand and she could do nothing to fight it. Her heart pounded heavily. She didn't think she was even breathing. It took several long seconds before the black receded and her vision returned.

Sgt. Black would have been amused, if not for the graze in her upper arm. She looked through the hole in her uniform top at the damage, but decided it wasn't serious enough to warrant attention just yet. She shook her head. "I'd forgotten how good you were, Lieutenant. You almost got me."

Wash sucked in a painful breath as the intensity of the pain ebbed. She stared at the soldier, at the red soaking through part of the uniform sleeve. "I did get you."

The sergeant smirked. "We'll have to find some better restraints for you. Until then, you'll just have to be asleep."

Wash knew the blow was coming, but was unable to stop it. Darkness claimed her once again.

xxxx

The table was strewn with a mess of electronic pieces, chips, circuit boards and cracked plastic housings. None of it looked operational, or even particularly important. Jim turned to give his wife a confused look. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

Elizabeth moved to the side, where Malcolm had been working with the salvageable pieces. She pulled over a small plastic container. "Now that we've been cut off from 2149 we need to salvage as many pieces of medical equipment as we can. We've sifted through some of the debris the Phoenix Group left behind to find anything we can still use. Malcolm found this."

Jim peered into the container, his confusion multiplying. There were only a few relatively small pieces of cracked plastic, some wires and circuitry. "It looks like a portable bio scanner somebody stepped on."

"Yes, but look closely at the casing," said Elizabeth, slowly trying to guide him to whatever conclusion she had already arrived.

He looked closer, finally noticing the dried, red flakes clinging to the white plastic. Jim looked at Elizabeth. "Is that blood?" She nodded and he wondered if there was something he was missing.

"Is blood on a bioscanner something unusual?" he asked, wondering briefly if she was trying to pull one over on him.

"No, not normally. But I tested the blood, I don't know why, really," said Elizabeth, trying to keep a calm demeanor at the possibility of what she had found.

"And?" Jim did not want to appear impatient, but it really seemed as if she was playing with him.

"The blood belongs to Lt. Washington."

Jim's face lost whatever amusement he had conjured up at her the possibility of her trying to mess with him. He stared back down at the broken scanner. "Wash?"

Elizabeth granted him the few moments he needed to shake off the melancholy he felt every time someone mentioned his late friend's name. After a few seconds he shook his head. "I still don't see the big deal here. We know Lucas…he…we already knew she was probably bleeding."

The hurt in her husband's voice almost made Elizabeth regret bringing this to his attention. But if she was right, he had to know. "Yes, but Jim, you said Lucas shot her in the head, so we naturally assumed she was dead. You do not scan a dead person. You do not cover your hands in a person's blood if there is no chance to save them."

"What are you saying?" asked Jim, his voice uncertain, yet leaving no room for doubt. Elizabeth knew she had better be very sure of what she was about to tell him.

"Jim, I think Alicia was alive after Lucas shot her," said Elizabeth carefully, knowing how much damage her words could inflict. Jim seemed about to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. "She was alive long enough for someone to consider using the bioscanner on her. She was bleeding enough for whoever scanned her to have their hands covered in her blood. Dead people don't bleed, Jim."

He scoffed, part disbelief and part anger. He'd just started dealing with Wash's death and he dreaded ripping this wound wide open again. It would be even worse for Taylor, Jim surmised. The Commander had performed all his duties to form, but Jim could tell how hard Taylor was struggling. He could see how much Taylor was grieving over his lieutenant's death, even if he pretended he was fine.

Jim ran a hand through his hair. He needed to really think about this. "What are the chances, if she **was** alive after being…shot…would she still be alive now?"

"I don't know. I don't know how severe her injuries were, if she could survive them for long without proper treatment. I just don't know, Jim." Elizabeth sounded exhausted, defeated almost, as if she'd just realized how problematic her discovery was.

Jim pointed at the broken scanner. "Can you recall the information of the last person scanned?"

She nodded half-heartedly. "Yes, but, this chip is too damaged to function."

"Can you repair it?"

"Perhaps Malcolm might be able to, but Jim, even if we did repair the chip, there is no guarantee the information still remains."

Jim sighed, feeling an entirely different kind of heaviness now. "We have to try, Elizabeth. If there is even the slightest chance Wash is still alive…we have to know."

Elizabeth nodded, feeling better at having shared her discovery with her husband. She squeezed his arm and gave him a soft smile, which he returned, even if it did not compare to his past smiles. He turned to leave, but Elizabeth stopped him before he exited the room. "Are you going to inform Commander Taylor about this?"

Jim hesitated only briefly before giving his answer. "I think it would be best if we kept this just between us. For the time being."

She nodded in agreement, though she wasn't sure it was the right decision. Jim left the infirmary, his thoughts now in turmoil.

_to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

****Thanks to all of you who are reading, and reviewing. I'm just so in love with Wash's BAMFness that I can't help but continue to write about it, but I promise I am trying my best to get us to a Wash/Taylr reunion!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

The ride was anything but smooth, the tires of the truck almost no match for the bumpy terrain. Every rut in the path they travelled pushed the suspension to its limit, rattling the occupants and cargo in the back. Wash certainly had had worse rides in her life, but those hadn't been with her hands chained to the floor and her head feeling as if it were split open. She was lying on the floor, feeling her consciousness fade in and out as her head was knocked painfully against the hard surface beneath her with every bump in the road. At least someone had thrown a blanket over her, the rough, grey military-grade wool almost comforting her in its familiarity.

The truck stopped almost abruptly, jerking her wrists against the chains. Someone shifted next to her and a bright flashlight beam fell onto her face. Despite her closed eyes it was bright enough to intensify the consistent throbbing in her head. Wash was tough and she didn't complain, but the constant pain and lack of proper medical care was wearing on her. She'd been seriously injured before, but adrenaline had kept her going until she could get medical treatment and the painkillers she'd received eventually made the whole ordeal bearable. Now, as a prisoner, not knowing where they were or what their plans were for her, the combination of pain, uncertainty, and a likely head injury were making her afraid. Wash did not do afraid.

"Why are we stopping? Are we there already?" The voice came from almost directly next to Wash and she thought she recognized it as that of the odd archaeologist.

There was more movement in the truck, footsteps and then the creaking of the back door. An ear-splitting screech erupted outside, reverberating through the truck. Shouts soon followed, military commands as far as Wash could tell. There were some screams and then the staccato of rapid-fire military rifles. Another inhuman screech sounded and something heavy hit the side of the truck, shaking it enough to topple some of the cargo.

Someone slammed the truck door shut, hopefully locking it in place before making their way to the back of the truck where Wash was chained. She had no strength to move, or even lift her head, but she didn't need to see to know what was happening. Wash had been OTG enough times to recognize the shrill sounds of the Slashers before they ripped their prey apart.

"What the fuck is happening out there?" asked the archaeologist and Wash wanted to laugh at him. How could he come to a cretaceous jungle and be surprised at a dinosaur attack?

"Dinosaurs, a damn many of them. Shit." It was the voice of Sgt. Black, who must have been assigned to be Wash's guard considering she seemingly had yet to leave her side.

"Well, shouldn't you be out there? Killing them or something?" Dr. Jones sounded slightly panicked, though Wash couldn't exactly fault him for that. She remembered quite well how forcefully her heart had pounded during her first Slasher encounter. Of course, Taylor had been by her side then. Wash had never been afraid with the Commander at her side.

Sgt. Black scoffed, dropping down to sit on the other side of Wash, as far away from the door as possible. "I'm not going out there. I like being alive."

'Coward' ran through Wash's head, but she decided to remain silent. She really was in no position to antagonize the only person who'd shown the remotest bit of concern for her. Wash felt someone reach over her and suddenly a beam of bright light was blinding her eyes. She couldn't stop the groan that escaped her, especially when cool fingers grasped her jaw to turn her head.

"Hey, Wash, you still alive?" Sgt. Black looked down at the prisoner, just a little bit in awe at her former superior. Not only had the woman survived a point-blank shot to the head, but she'd very nearly managed to kill her guard and escape just a few days later.

There was another heavy thud against the side of the truck and they could still hear the screeching and gunfire outside. Black nodded towards the door, eyes focused on Wash who was barely managing to look back at her. "Lieutenant, you know what those things are?"

"Slashers," Wash ground out, attempting to push the offending flashlight away but the chain stopped her hands.

"Can they get in here?"

"No. I don't think so." Wash tried to move her head now, but Sgt. Black had a hold of her jaw and was apparently trying to torture her by shining the light directly into her eyes.

Black finally moved the light, but kept the beam close enough for Wash to still be able to see her face. The sergeant looked slightly worried, but there were Slashers pillaging outside after all. "Your pupils are different sizes. I'm no medic, but I think that's bad."

Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind Wash's field medic training attempted to assess the information, but none of it actually reached her conscious mind. She knew it wasn't a good sign, but couldn't explain why or what to do about it. Black watched her for a few moments in silence, something akin to concern on her face. Wash figured her best bet was to work with whatever compassion the soldier had.

"I know you don't agree with this. If you take me back to Terra Nova, Commander Taylor will make sure you're taken care of," said Wash, almost ashamed for practically pleading with this soldier to save her life. However, it was one thing to bravely stare death in the face in the form of Lucas Taylor's gun, and another entirely to die slowly and uselessly as a prisoner of their enemy.

Sgt. Black smirked and threw a quick glance at Dr. Jones, who seemed to hardly be paying them any attention. He seemed incredibly worried about the Slasher attack, his nervousness showing as he took off his glasses to polish them for the fifth time.

"I think I'll go check if the Slashers are gone," said Sgt. Black. She stood and made her way back to the front of the truck, ignoring Washington's offer of asylum in Terra Nova.

The sounds outside had stopped and Black unlocked the door, pushing it open reluctantly. Almost immediately a sickening stench of blood and gunpowder drifted into the truck. It was almost entirely dark outside, the full moon and truck headlights of the vehicles behind them offering only partial illumination. The sergeant shone the flashlight across the ground, holding her gun in the other hand. She jumped off the truck bed and was immediately swallowed by the darkness.

Wash saw her second chance for escape. A part of her knew she was too weak and too well guarded to even attempt it, but the stubborn part inside of her refused to simply accept being a prisoner. That part reminded the rest of her of section three of the Soldier's Code of Conduct: If I am captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and to aid others to escape.

She had already failed at section two - I will never surrender under my own free will - when she turned Terra Nova over to the enemy. But not matter how much the soldier within her protested, Wash could not muster the strength to lift herself up. In a way she was almost glad when she noticed several human shapes moving at the door before climbing into the truck, taking the choice out of her hands.

There were three of them now; with dread Wash recognized Lucas and Mira as they made their way over. Sgt. Black locked the truck doors again and all three moved to the back, their flashlights offering just enough light to show Lucas was injured. Lucas dropped heavily onto the low bench, while Mira went over to the stack of cargo containers off to the side.

"Unbelievable. A whole squad of soldiers unable to fend off a few dinosaurs," said Mira angrily, as she searched through a plastic crate. She grabbed something from the crate and turned towards the others. "We'll stay in here tonight; we can't fully assess the damage until tomorrow."

"I don't remember putting you in charge," Lucas ground out, though he was clearly in pain despite his arrogance.

Mira tossed a box at his feet, the look on her face one of pure annoyance. "I think that Slasher did it for you. Just hope the Lieutenant can stitch you back up or we may finally be rid of you."

Lucas sneered, but said no more, clearly more hurt than he let on. Mira kneeled down and pulled the blanket off of Wash. She grabbed the chain and yanked on it. "I'm going to unlock these. Don't try anything stupid, you don't stand a chance against us all."

Mira removed the shackles from the lieutenant's wrists then grabbed her arm to force Wash to meet her eyes. "Lucas got a little too close to a Slasher. You're the only medic here, so you'll have to fix him up."

Wash wanted to laugh in her face, but managed only a weak chuckle. "Why in the world would you think I'd do such a thing?"

"You can either do as I say, or suffer the consequences," said Mira, gesturing with her gun for emphasis.

"I don't care about your threats, Mira. I'm not aiding the enemy," said Wash, feeling just a little like her old self in her defiance.

Mira scoffed and leaned just a little bit closer. "You don't think I could make you **beg** me to finally kill you? You learn a lot of things out in the jungle."

Wash remained silent. She had no doubts Mira had learned quite a few effective torture methods, but there was no way Wash was ever going to let the Sixers' leader break her. Lucas let out an angry groan and leaned over despite his injuries. "You're not giving her the right incentive."

Mira frowned at him, clearly not sure what incentive could be more motivating than slow death through torture. Lucas curled his bloody fingers into the front of Wash's shirt and brought his face close enough she could smell his breath. "If you don't cooperate then I will let Mira do as she pleases and after she's done with you, I will send you back to my father. Piece by piece. How do you think he'd like that?"

The dread that filled Wash at the thought of the Commander receiving parts of her mutilated body robbed her of all her defiance. She was convinced her survival was merely a stay of death and once Lucas was done with her he would finish the job, but she desperately hoped Taylor would never know she'd been alive, in the clutches of his crazy son. Taylor was a sensible, tough soldier, but Wash knew he would blame himself for failing her. He'd be nearly swallowed by his guilt. Wash couldn't let that happen. Even if she could never actually tell him how much he meant to her, she could save him this pain.

Wash painfully and with some difficulty used her hands to push herself up. The wall behind her was really all that kept her upright as she leaned against it. Her head was spinning, streaks of red and black shooting across her vision. Her face throbbed painfully and her hands shook and Wash was positive a Carno had more medical aptitude than her at that point. Nevertheless, she reached for the medical kit Mira had tossed at Lucas's feet.

Lucas threw a triumphant look at Mira and leaned back, his self-assuredness obnoxious. "I always knew you had a thing for my father, Lieutenant. But he was just using you, wasn't he?"

Wash ignored the dig, instead focusing on the medical supplies in front of her. "If you want me to stitch you up you have to come down here."

Lucas seemed to want to argue, but was apparently hurt enough to acquiesce. He painfully lowered himself to the floor of the truck for his father's lieutenant to fix his wounds. It was somewhat ironic, Lucas mused, that she was here now, fixing him instead. Her hands shook as she removed his torn and bloodied shirt. Lucas was confident that his threats would ensure her complete compliance and the thought of controlling his father's favorite little soldier excited him to no end. He figured, perhaps after she'd outlived her usefulness to the mission, he'd still follow through on his threat. Thinking of the look on his father's face if he found his lieutenant's maimed body Lucas grinned.

xxxxx

Commander Nathaniel Taylor sat at his desk, appearing to all the world deep in thought. He was completely still, his eyes trained on his right hand, which was the only part of him moving. In his hand he held two metal tags and he weaved them back and forth through his fingers almost absentmindedly. But Taylor was anything but deep in thought or absentminded. His mind was starkly focused on those tags, on the cool feel of them against his skin, on the dried blood, which had rubbed off onto his fingers as he continued to handle them. Perhaps in some way literally wearing Wash's blood on his hands would allow him to deal with her figurative blood on his hands.

Taylor sighed and leaned forward, clutching the tags tightly in his fist until it became painful. The metallic edges biting into his skin could hardly cover any of the agony he already felt, the giant, gaping hole Lucas had torn in his chest, not with his knife, but with his gun. With the gun he had held to Wash's head. With the gun he had used to execute Taylor's best friend, confidante, and maybe something more.

He pushed away from his desk angrily and stood. There was no point in thinking about what could have been. They needed to rebuild Terra Nova and come up with a solution to the Phoenix Group problem; Wash wouldn't want him sitting here wallowing in self-pity and misery.

Taylor quickly crossed the Command Center and was just about to exit, when Jim Shannon came through the door. Shannon stopped abruptly upon seeing the Commander and no matter how quickly he caught himself, Taylor noticed the surprise on the man's face.

"Commander, didn't know you'd be here," said Jim, hoping he didn't sound nearly as suspicious as he felt.

"This is my Command Center, Shannon, where else would I be?"

Jim made a face and shrugged slightly. "Out?"

Taylor squinted at the man and Jim shifted uncomfortably. The thought of messing with his sheriff was almost enough to bring a smile to Taylor's face, but it immediately reminded him of how he used to do the same to Wash and his face hardened. "What do you need, Shannon?"

Jim had been told the Commander would be making rounds along the perimeter and he'd have undisturbed access to the Command Center, though someone had obviously gotten some times mixed up. He was desperate to look through the personnel files, through Washington's file, to see if there was any way they could track her in case she was still alive. The last thing he wanted, however, was to let the Commander in on what they'd found. Jim didn't think it would be a very good idea to get Taylor's hope up for what could potentially amount to wishful thinking, especially not with the serious threat of Lucas and the Phoenix Group still looming over their heads. So he decided to share other information, hoping the importance of it would make the Commander forget how suspicious this encounter had been at first.

"We've found something, near Outpost 5."

"Phoenix soldiers?" asked Taylor, deciding to ignore whatever reason had really brought Shannon to his office.

Shannon nodded. "Dead Phoenix soldiers. A lot of them."

Taylor raised his eyebrows. He had not been expecting that. "This just got interesting."

He carefully put the tags he still held into his pocket and led the way out of the Command Center.

_to be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks everyone who is reviewing; it helps to know someone is reading and enjoying this! has been difficult and wouldn't let me upload, so I'm hoping it works now. Let me know what you think

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

The carnage was gruesome. The smell of death and decay had greeted them long before their rovers came to a stop along the path the Phoenix Group had travelled. There were probably a good dozen dead bodies, though it was hard to tell considering no single body was fully intact. Jim Shannon looked across the field, disgusted and sad at the immense loss of life, yet he couldn't help feel these soldiers had deserved it. After all, the Phoenix Group had killed 26 Terra Novans in their attack. 27 if he counted Wash, but Jim did not. He preferred to hold onto the most outlandish possibility someone could survive a point blank shot to the head.

"Sir, we've searched the truck they left behind. Nothing but empty cargo containers."

Jim looked at Corporal Reilly and nodded. It would have been too easy had the Phoenix soldiers left behind a map with an X marked at their destination. He lifted his radio to his face, eyes still focused on the dead bodies.

"Commander," he said into the radio, waiting for a response.

"Go ahead, Shannon."

"Looks like the Phoenix Group got attacked by a less-friendly variety of dinosaur. Probably Slashers or Carnos. The bodies are at least a day old. They left behind a truck, but there's nothing to be found." Jim's eyes moved to the abandoned vehicle. A thought suddenly struck him and he began walking towards it.

Commander Taylor was silent for a few moments. "Alright, return to the colony." If there was nothing to be gained from their enemies he saw no need to leave his people OTG, in potential danger. Perhaps if he'd been out there himself he would have pushed on, but the doctor had explicitly prohibited him from going OTG while he healed.

"Should we just…leave the bodies?" asked Shannon, throwing another wary glance at the dead littering the ground. He heaved himself into the back of the truck, where two Terra Nova soldiers were still picking through the empty containers.

"They're not our concern. They're far enough from the colony to not present any danger from scavengers," said Taylor, cutting the link as soon as Shannon confirmed the order.

Jim made his way past the containers to the back of the truck and was struck with a sort of terrified excitement at what he saw. A heavy chain with two shackles was attacked to a metal ring in the floor. Littering the ground next to the shackles were some bloody dressings and bandages, as well as a discarded syringe. He bent down and pulled a plastic bag from his jacket, carefully stowing the discarded items in it without touching them. He may have no longer been a cop needing to follow strict evidentiary procedures, but Jim wanted to be damn sure not to mess up a potential proof Wash was still alive.

He tucked the sealed bag back into his jacket and stood. He waved the soldiers to follow and made his way swiftly back to their rovers. Jim was anxious to return to the colony and have the blood tested.

xxxxx

She could see the dense foliage whizz by through the slats in the transport, allowing her something to focus on to cling to consciousness. It was incredibly humid in the back of the transport, enough to make her feel like she couldn't take a proper breath, especially with the swelling and bruising in her face. At least they had not chained her to the floor this time, but merely tied her hands and feet, connecting them through a piece of rope long enough for her to walk without having to bend. She'd somehow managed to climb into the transport mostly under her own power and collapsed against its side and some containers next to her. Stitching up Lucas had robbed her off what little strength she'd had. It was a struggle now for her to simply remain conscious, but she wanted to know everything that was going on.

"Wash."

Tearing her eyes from the jungle rushing by she looked at the soldier sitting across from her. Wash wanted to hate the Sergeant who seemingly had so readily abandoned old loyalties for cash and self-interest, but the woman was her best, and probably only, chance of surviving whatever Lucas had planned. Sgt. Black sat across from her in the transport, having yet to leave her side since Wash had first woken up. The Sergeant had taken off her armor and uniform jacket due to the oppressive heat. She reached into a container by her side and glanced to the front of the transport. Mira was driving, leading the convoy this time, while Lucas was passed out from painkillers and exhaustion in the passenger seat.

Black leaned forward and held out two small, rectangular packages. Wash reached for them with her bound hands, immediately recognizing the brown packaging of Meal-Ready-to-Eat components. She looked at the Sergeant, confused.

"You need to eat something, you've gotten really pale. I doubt you can chew, but this is better than nothing. It's just MRE jelly and peanut butter."

Wash realized the last time she had eaten anything must have been the night she got shot. She hadn't felt particularly hungry, even now, but knew the Sergeant was right. Wash took the two packages with still shaky hands and attempted to tear them open. She stood little chance in her current condition against the notoriously difficult to open MREs and their components and suddenly Sgt. Black was squeezing into the small space right next to her, taking the packages.

Black opened the packages, with a bit of difficulty of her own, a wistful grin on her face as she handed them back to her prisoner. "You remember Jubaland, in 35?"

Wash figured no response was required, none of their unit would ever be able to forget Somalia, and brought the two packages to her mouth. She squeezed the packages' contents into her mouth, grimacing at the taste. Even the simple act of swallowing was excruciating, but she needed the nourishment too badly to give up.

"My first real battle, you know. Man, I was shaking so bad after I couldn't open that damn MRE for the life of me and then there you were, tearing that sucker open like it was no big deal. I was seriously in awe of you, did you know that?"

Wash looked at the Sergeant, remembering the wide-eyed, fresh from Basic Private assigned to their unit in 2135. "I did know that. It's still not too late to get out of here, Jody."

"Hey, you remembered my nickname," said Black, grinning, thinking of times long past. "No one calls me that now. Not much use for cadence in a mercenary army apparently." She'd earned the moniker Jody from her insistence on calling out the military cadence songs, or 'Jodies', while the weary unit marched.

Not getting the response she wanted, Wash decided to focus on something else. "Do you know where they're taking me?"

Black threw another glance at the front of the transport, but the sounds of the engine and the jungle rushing by were much too loud for Mira to hear them. She looked back at Wash. "Some place called the Badlands. All I know is that it's south of the colony. And dangerous."

"What's in the Badlands?"

Black gave her an incredulous look. "You're the one who lives in this godforsaken place. I have no idea what's out there, but that archaeologist is here for a reason. He's an expert on ancient cultures. Whatever is out there, the way Sgt. Hooper made it sound there may be another way for us to get back to 2149. Another portal."

Wash raised an eyebrow in surprise then became confused. "Why do you need another portal?"

"Your people blew up Hope Plaza. If this thing in the Badlands doesn't pan out, we'll be stuck in this crappy, dinosaur infested jungle."

Wash smiled, realizing Taylor had followed her advice and blown the bridge. It also meant the Shannon family had successfully escaped. All in all, Wash figured she'd been pretty successful, even if she had messed up dying. She squeezed the last of the peanut butter and jelly out of the packets, not even bothered anymore by the pain as she swallowed.

xxxx

"Jim, would you please stop that? You are making me anxious."

Jim schooled his face into a mask of innocence as he looked at his wife. He'd been drumming his fingers on the table as he sat waiting for her to finish, but stopped immediately at the dark look she threw his way. He sighed and tried to peer sideways at the screen she was working on. He still felt the urge to tap his fingers. Elizabeth threw him another look, as if to tell him to be patient.

He had rushed the bloody bandages to the infirmary as soon as they'd returned from OTG. Jim knew in his gut that blood belonged to Wash and with this as evidence they could finally tell Taylor. They could finally do something to get the Lieutenant back. Something beeped on the screen and Jim shot up. Elizabeth waved him away, the look on her face dashing his hopes.

"It's not Lt. Washington's blood, Jim."

Jim's face fell, disappointment flooding through him. He'd been absolutely sure. Perhaps the test was wrong and he was about to say so, when Elizabeth threw him another look.

"The test is very accurate. I'm sorry, Jim. You know I want to find Alicia alive just as much as you," said Elizabeth, her voice colored by the sorrow over the Lieutenant's sacrifice.

Sighing again Jim rubbed his face tiredly. They'd all been working so much to rebuild the colony and he'd taken on additional duties trying to find any evidence to prove Wash was alive. He felt weary, but he still had a job to do. "Do we know whose blood it is?"

Elizabeth watched him, slight worry in her eyes. She wanted to tell him to get some rest, but knew it would be futile. She nodded slowly. "Yes. The blood belongs to Lucas Taylor."

"Lucas?" Jim suddenly felt no longer tired. "Taylor says Lucas was shot right before he got away. You think that's what these bandages are from?"

"Could be," Elizabeth shrugged.

Someone entered the lab with the type of urgency that made both of their heads turn. 'Elizabeth, you need to see this."

Malcolm rushed over to her then noticed Jim sitting on a stool at the desk. He barely managed to hide his grimace. "Jim."

"Malcolm."

Malcolm turned back to Elizabeth, holding up a tiny chip. He inserted it into the unit on the desk. "I managed to fix the bio-scanner's chip. Most of the data was corrupted, but there is this."

He moved his fingers across the holo screen until data appeared. Jim stood, trying to get a closer look at what Malcolm had found. Most of the screen was taken up by digital static, as if the information had been corrupted, but a few sections remained intact. There were numbers primarily and Jim was at a loss to what they meant.

Elizabeth's eyes scanned over the scant information quickly. She gasped and looked at Malcolm, whose face was grim. "You are sure this is correct? This data wasn't corrupted somehow?"

"No, I'm very sure this data is correct. It's all I managed to salvage as the chip was quite damaged, but it is accurate, as hard as it is to believe," said Malcolm, focused entirely on Elizabeth.

Jim was getting impatient. "Is someone going to fill me in here?"

Elizabeth turned to her husband and motioned at the data on the screen. "These are vital signs, Jim."

"Vital signs," repeated Jim, still waiting for the exciting part.

"Lt. Washington's vital signs," said Elizabeth. She pointed at some of the numbers. "Blood pressure, heart rate, and respiratory rate."

"Which means?"

Elizabeth finally managed a small smile. "It means you were right, Jim. Lt. Washington survived being shot."

A sudden wave of hope and despair washed over him simultaneously and Jim sat heavily back on his stool. He'd held onto his belief that Wash had survived so steadfastly, but having it confirmed took the air right out of him.

"The timestamp survived thankfully. This scan occurred several hours after she was shot."

"Can you tell from this if it's possible Wash is still alive now?" asked Jim, hoping desperately for the impossible.

Elizabeth glanced at Malcolm as if asking his opinion. He merely inclined his head, as if it were answer enough. Elizabeth looked back at Jim. "These vitals are worrisome. If she had been brought to the infirmary I have no doubt I would have been able to save her life, but we do not know what type of treatment, if any, she received. I'd like to be able to say she survived, but I cannot do so with any certainty."

Jim nodded, already lost in thought. He was convinced that if Wash had managed to survive being shot in the head initially, she would not merely give in and die later. Jim was more certain than ever – Wash was still alive.

"I think for now we should keep this between us three. I want to get some more evidence, proof that Wash is still alive. Don't tell anyone else about what we found," said Jim, standing up. He was already trying to think of how they would get the Lieutenant back.

"I don't like to be nosy, Shannon, but I have a feeling I want to hear whatever you are trying to hide."

All three turned towards the new voice, such shock written on their faces they would not be able to explain away Jim's words even if they tried. Commander Taylor stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a look on his face that left no room for argument.

_to be continued_


End file.
